


Devon

by Clarensjoy



Series: Harry and Ginny: Post Canon [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, The Burrow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarensjoy/pseuds/Clarensjoy
Summary: 'What was time to her now anyway? It seemed to be something that slipped through her fingers like sand, escaping her- yet that did not matter- as the sand would fall back into an endless desert that stretched for miles. She stood, lost, in the middle of it.'After the battle any task seems enormous. On one rare, sunny, afternoon, Ginny has Harry join her on a run in the countryside surrounding the Burrow.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Harry and Ginny: Post Canon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903456
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99





	Devon

**Devon**

Ginny bent down to pull on her trainers, not bothering to undo the laces before shoving her foot into each shoe, huffing a bit at the effort and stamping down on the ground to finally get her heel in. She adjusted the laces until her feet were comfortable and then straightened up, seated on her bedspread, and stared at the wall for a while.

She had found when she got home that most tasks were going to take double the time than usual. In between washing dishes at the sink at night she would pause with a plate in hand, dripping onto the floor, and look out into the night.

The darkness that fell over the Burrow at night was complete. There were no cars to pierce through it, no streetlamps and certainly no neighbouring houses to offer any source of light beyond the lamps that illuminated her own home.

It was also very quiet.

When she had those phases, she didn’t know how long they lasted or if she even breathed while her eyes strained to see something past the impenetrable night. She took on a feeling like she was outside of her body and felt light-headed. Then, because she could see herself looking out the window like a statue, she would recount to herself the reality of life in three logical steps:

It’s over.

Harry is alive.

Fred is dead.

And then she would be thrust back into the present, sometimes so violently it made her shudder. In the first week after the battle she had succumbed to tears, the physical pain infuriating her. She could do nothing about it- the way it crawled up her throat and lodged itself there- she even began to worry that she would never be able to speak again without her voice being a hoarse scream- a gut-wrenching wail the likes of which her mum still managed almost daily.

It wasn’t a big worry though, she- nor anyone in her family- had much to say lately, beyond courtesies.

She was starting to see red and pink dots swirling in her vision when she returned to her bedroom. Sitting on the bed. Yes, that was what she was doing now. Ginny stood up and pulled on her ponytail to secure it, she took a glance in the mirror and exited her room for the landing.

The late afternoon sun was casting the kitchen in a fiery glow, it was a stark contrast to the constant rain that they had been experiencing the past three weeks. Ginny thought it was the perfect excuse to get out of the house, to escape the suffocating amounts of grief contained within its walls.

Gone were the laid-back afternoons at the Burrow where a sense of calm stole over the house and she usually settled down with a good book and a cup of tea in the patch of sun that shone on the rug by the window in the sitting room. Ginny harboured a stubborn belief in her heart that those days would return, but she also didn’t like to think about how long that might take.

No-one was around the house. George had taken the opportunity to slink away to his flat when Bill and Charlie had announced their need to return home (where was Charlie’s home? Ginny had wondered, when he had used the word to describe Romania). Percy was at the ministry, as well as her father, and Ron and Hermione had left for Australia not two days ago. Her mum had been gone since the battle and was in her bedroom upstairs.

But there was one other person, and he was currently sprawled in the very patch of sun that Ginny had once claimed as her own. His forearm was crossed over his eyes, his glasses pushed up into his hair. His other arm laid across his chest and rose and fell with his steady breaths, at the end of his arm his hand clutched his holly wand.

Ginny surveyed him for a moment. _He’s had too much practice pretending to be dead_ she thought, clenching her jaw. Still, she knew him better. She walked into the sitting room and strode confidently to where he lay. His breaths remained even. _Impressive._

She didn’t miss the slight movement of his head however, angling his face ever so slightly towards her.

‘Come on then,’ she said, whilst reaching out with her trainer to prod his side. He grunted, removed his arm- revealing those devastating green eyes- and pretended to blink blearily up at her.

‘Sorry?’ he managed through a yawn.

‘I said come on then. We’re going for a run.’

He remained still, obviously waiting for her to burst into laughter and sit down next to him. She made no movement of the sort and they just looked at each other for a long while. Harry’s eyebrows eventually creased in confusion and he looked up at her through them. ‘No thanks,’ he replied curtly. Then laid his head back down on the floor, arm back over his eyes, other hand twirling his wand. He really was a stupid git sometimes.

‘I wasn’t asking, you’re coming,’ she said evenly.

‘Really, Gin, I’m good.’

‘I’m glad, but you’re still coming. Go get changed.’

That may have been a bit forward. She saw his jaw tighten in a display of irritation, his fingers stopped twirling the wand and he sighed deeply but didn’t reply. Maybe he thought if he just didn’t reply she would leave. He really was a stupid git most of the time.

Ginny was not going to take no for an answer. He had been moping about the house ever since Ron and Hermione had left and even before they left, he had been more subtly moping about, claiming he was only trying to give her brother and Hermione some privacy as they explored their new relationship.

Ginny had only seen him in three locations since arriving at the Burrow. His shared room with Ron, the very patch of sun he now occupied and a certain tree in the orchard that was currently in full bloom, producing the soft baby pink petals that her mum had been using to make her soap and shampoo for years. It made her stomach churn to look at it now. Sure, he ate in the kitchen and went to the loo, but one could almost make out a Harry-shaped hole on his bed, or on the carpet or in the tree trunk- that’s how much time he spent tucked away in them.

She was furious with him, she was heart-achingly happy just to see him walking and talking, she was uncertain of him. She wanted to ball up her fists and pound them against his chest, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and then capture his lips with hers.

It was utterly exhausting on top of everything else that swirled in her head every day.

It took a while before Harry realised that she was not, in fact, going to be leaving him, so he sat up and looked back up at her.

‘Ginny, the last thing I want to do right now is go on a run, I’m sorry, I’m just very tired,’ he offered up, as if that mattered to her.

Ginny hadn’t wanted to resort to this, but she had been backed into a corner. She took on a hurt expression, and rubbed her arm nervously, glancing out the window, ‘Okay, Harry, I’ll just go on my own… It’s getting dark but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Surely the Burrow isn’t such a big target anymore?’

Merlin it was a low blow, but she had to _get him moving._

Harry’s eyes narrowed as she put on her act, he knew exactly what she was doing but that didn’t matter. She had planted the seed, he would not be able to get the thought out of his head, if he refused her now… then she probably shouldn’t even be bothering trying to help him.

He was still eyeing her rather icily, but she could see the cogs turning inside his head, his Adams apple bobbed as he considered the implications of her words. He eventually sighed and heaved himself up, gave her a pointed look and then moved past her into the kitchen, all the while saying, ‘Fine, I’ll come, but only because I’m worried about putting on weight.’

Ginny snorted at that. They both knew that was a lie, Harry was still as lean as ever, still recovering from the gaunt state he had adopted while on the run. Besides, when on earth had Harry Potter ever had the time to care for his appearance? Ginny was impressed however that he had had the sense to make up an excuse for his sudden change of mind, lest he suffer a lecture on the importance of her protection and how it was none of his business.

Ginny understood the cruelty in giving him such a narrow window of success in that situation, but it had to be done.

She waited for him outside the front door, stretching her muscles and thinking about which route to take. She had been running around her house since before she can remember, and knew every dale and hill surrounding the Burrow. She was reminded about how grateful she was to have grown up in Ottery St Catchpole- no doubt living in the city would drive her mad.

She was broken out of her reverie when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She dropped the leg that she had been holding up to her chest and assessed Harry, he had thrown on a pair of trainers and shorts, still wearing the same long-sleeved shirt before he had changed. Despite the setting sun there was still a lingering chill to the air that only promised to get worse as the afternoon slipped into evening. Satisfied that he was equipped to run, she wordlessly turned and set off, climbing the slow incline that led to the orchard.

She started with a slow pace, waiting for him to catch up with her, and soon enough she heard his rhythmic footfalls approaching until he landed side by side with her. His longer strides made it look like he could almost be walking, simply loping along, so she increased her pace as they reached the tree line. Their feet thudded softly on the fallen petals that had completely covered the floor, the sunlight gave the pink blossoms still on the trees a golden tint. Ginny thought it was sickeningly ethereal, especially to be side by side with Harry through it all.

She didn’t know the extent of Harry’s athletic prowess. He was bloody good at quidditch but being on a broom and running on the ground were as apples were to oranges. He seemed relaxed enough, running with a natural gait that matched his slow even breaths that she could hear above her own.

She enjoyed running. Not fast-paced-obsessed-with-times running, but a slow long trip. Lately her runs had become another opportunity for her to slip into oblivion. Just last week she had only realised how far away she was from the Burrow when she had slipped on a muddy puddle and been drawn back to reality just in time to steady herself. She had looked back up to her surroundings to realise that they were only vaguely familiar, then she had balked when, turning around, her gaze met the looming figure of Luna’s house, _behind her_. She had considered knocking on their door as she passed it on the long way home, but the knot in her stomach as she had approached the house- which had a newly constructed upper wall- had forbid her from doing so.

_But you’re running with Harry now._

They ran for some time in the orchard. It stretched quite far from the house, becoming more entangled with heather and weeds as they ventured further. Ginny didn’t know how far they had run before Harry finally spoke to her.

‘I’m sorry for being an arse.’

‘You’re not an arse, but I accept your apology.’

That had left them in silence for a while longer. Truly, Ginny didn’t really know what he was apologising for, he hadn’t been an arse at all, if anything she had been the arse forcing him to join her out here in the cold.

Maybe he was apologising for the tenuous limbo their relationship had been hanging in ever since the battle. Maybe he was apologising for telling her to stay in the room of requirement. Maybe he was apologising for Dumbledore’s funeral.

Most of that seemed irrelevant right now, to Ginny.

Before they could delve deeper into the orchard, she turned right at the mangled husk of a lightning struck tree. They had been on the move for around twenty minutes now, Ginny was impressed with Harry’s maintained composure, she wondered at herself for expecting him to be struggling, of course it was obvious that Harry’s competitive streak would force him to keep pace with her, if not his athletic ability.

The trees started to thin as they approached the eastern border of the orchard, which now tapered down into a rather steep downhill.

The trick to a downhill was not to charge through it, it should be treated as a slow reprieve to gain back some energy- letting gravity do part of the work for them. Harry seemed to understand that, and so kept with her pace as they jogged down, the grass still slightly slick from the incessant rain. They could see the town square from here, even the tiny dots of a few people milling about, completing last minute errands.

Ginny was glad for the opportunity to gain back some breath. Contrary to what many would believe, running is not, in fact, easy. For anyone. It’s all a matter of pushing through that threshold for pain. The best runner in the world was not the best because he never got tired, they were the best because even when they did get tired, they kept going.

That was what, Ginny thought, differentiated the athlete from the, well, _beginner,_ athlete. Right now, she could feel her constricting lungs reaching for more air that they would not receive, her throat dry with the effort of drawing in breath. Her calves were beginning to burn, and her body felt heavy. She focussed her attention on putting one foot in front of another, and, miraculously, it worked. Just like that, she was still running.

Ginny relished the sense of satisfaction she gained when she convinced her body to go one step further, it reminded her that she was as strong as her mind allowed her to be. It gave her some notion of control.

Their pathway soon evened out and then they were running through long forgotten dirt tracks bordering high fields of grass, stretching as far as the eye could see. She chanced a glance at Harry, his cheeks were reddened slightly, eyes focussed on a point in the distance- she felt the incredible urge to touch his face, to lean into him and roll in the golden fields with him until they itched all over.

She opted instead to return his apology, and opened her mouth to speak between stilted breaths, ‘I’m sorry too.’

She looked over at him again, he was frowning slightly. He turned his gaze away from the distance and glanced her way, all but running sideways for a moment, then he looked ahead again and chuckled to himself. ‘We’re a sad pair of sods, aren’t we?’

Ginny was slightly taken aback by his change of tone and stumbled in her pace. She quickly recovered and fell back into step with him, replying with a wry grin, ‘We really are, you’d think we lost the war or something.’

Harry stiffened, she grimaced at his quick shut down in response to her words. _It was supposed to be a joke_.

‘We lost a lot, I think’ he said softly. His words almost lost in the wind as they continued past the fields and wooden farm gates.

Ginny couldn’t stand it. ‘We gained a lot too’ she muttered under her breath. She of all people knew how much they had lost, but she of all people could see the future that had opened up to them, to every witch and wizard, when Harry had ended things in the great hall that beautiful, maddening morning.

Her reply was not what he had been looking for. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, she kept going for a while, running backwards and waiting for him to join her again, but when he didn’t, she stopped too. They were a way apart from one another, engaged in a stand-off. The wind was picking up now and the urgent bleating of a sheep could be heard in the distance. The sky was an intense display of dark blues, burnt oranges and pinks above them.

‘What the bloody hell did we gain Gin?’ Harry threw across the distance between them, ‘Remus, Tonks, Fred! Sirius, Dumbledore!’ he spat the words out at her, his voice was almost hoarse, he was breathing hard, still recovering from the physical exertion of their running coupled with the shouting. ‘It doesn’t bloody feel like we’ve gained anything!’

‘Then why did you come back!’ she shot back fiercely, not even surprised with his burst of anger. ‘If there’s nothing here for you, why did you bother!’ The words flew from her mouth before she had the chance to even consider what she was saying. They settled between them heavily and they both were thrust back into the past. Ginny had thought, that day, that even though her brother was dead, and her school was in ruins, everything would be okay.

They had only managed to catch a moment together, _after what felt like years,_ in the evening. They were still at Hogwarts, recovering. Ginny had exited the Gryffindor common room after making bloody sure that Harry had noticed her meaningful stares. What had happened then often comes back to her at night, when she lies awake in her bed and stares at the ceiling. It heats her body, but the flames mix with anger and confusion.

People said it all the time. That grief and trauma often bring out the most animalistic responses, _we want to feel alive having come so close to death._

Harry had never kissed her like that, touched her like that. Neither had she felt like such a mess, relishing in the escape from other emotions that pleasure brought.

_‘I thought you were- ‘she had breathed out, neck arching._

_‘I was,’ he brushed across her skin, ‘but, not really,’ he rested his forehead against hers in a short reprieve, ‘I was in-between, I could’ve…’_

But then he had brushed his thumb across her lips, and he captured them with his own. All thoughts of him lying in Hagrid’s arms were pushed out of her head.

_And now it was coming back to taunt her, that moment._

Ginny was standing confidently across from Harry, arms at her side, daring him to answer her. She was more than prepared, happy even, to be having this conversation. She had originally planned to be gentle and nice and understanding, but she knew now that would never have worked. Partly because she was not often described as a gentle, nice person and partly because it usually took a good row and shout for anything to get through to Harry.

He was still breathing heavily, but replied to her in a warning tone, just loud enough for her to hear over the distance that still separated them. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ginny.’

‘THEN TELL ME!’ Ginny lifted her hands, pointing towards her chest, ‘You complete and utter arsehole!’ There was no holding back now, ‘You think you can come back after a year in hell, have a grope and a snog and then ignore me while you live in _my house_?’ her voice took on a shrill tone as she asked the question, eyebrows raising with incredulity, ‘That’s not how this works, Potter, tell me if you’re finished, that’s fine, but have the decency to say it to my face at least.’

She didn’t know when this conversation had turned to their relationship, why she had headed in that direction, but the words were coming so fast that she realised they had been simmering in her gut for far longer than was safe. Harry looked a bit like had just been punched in the gut, anger momentarily stymied by shock, but returning swiftly, and fiercer, than before.

‘Then I’ll leave if you can’t stand the sight of me! I thought- you also,’ he ran his hands through his hair, ’Merlin, Ginny I knew that what we did was wrong! I still feel like a giant prick about it, so I’ll go!’

_He was not getting off that easy._

Ginny finally chose to break their distance, marching towards him as he stood rooted to the spot, face stony in expression, _was that what he looked like when…?_

As she drew closer to him, she didn’t bother to take a breath between words.

‘You’re not bloody leaving, Harry, you left last time and look where that’s landed us.’ he flinched, ‘You are going to tell me honestly what is really going through your brain, no filter, and then we can deal with the aftermath’ she finished speaking as she drew up in front of him, very much inside his personal space, eyes looking fiercely into his. She could feel the heat radiating off him, smell his sweat.

They stood like that for an indefinite amount of time. What was time to her now anyway? It seemed to be something that slipped through her fingers like sand, escaping her. Yet that did not matter, as the sand would fall back into an endless desert that stretched for miles, and she stood, lost, in the middle of it.

Harry’s face all but explored the full range of human emotion as they faced each other. No one else but her would be able to tell, she knew, not even Hermione, not Ron. But those eyes betrayed a thousand thoughts roiling behind them, each tiny flicker or quirk telling her a story. She saw the exact moment those thoughts settled, and his decision had been made.

‘Honestly, Gin? I’m terrified’

And then he was off, as if Ginny had flipped a switch within him. They stayed there in the middle of the narrow and forgotten country lane as the sky turned red, gone were any sounds of sheep or thoughts of muggle villagers just a few fields away. There was only the two of them.

He told her that he still hadn’t really faced the reality that everything was over, that he didn’t have his fate hanging over him anymore. How he still carried his wand wherever he went, and had a bag packed right now with some essentials stowed underneath his bed in the Burrow. He told her that he felt like he couldn’t breathe when he thought about the future, of what everyone expected of him.

he said that, in-between it all he woke up multiple times a night hearing and seeing things that could only live on in his mind. He felt an unbearable guilt staying with her family, and to be honest he missed Hermione and Ron who had come to mean more to him that anyone he could possibly imagine.

‘Except you’ he had said then, making sure to look dead straight into her eyes. ‘Ginny, I- I know that I can’t take any of what happened back. I- ‘he steeled himself- ‘I don’t think I _would_ take any of it back.

‘But I can’t stop myself from the ridiculous hope that we can, I don’t know, that we could- that maybe… that _you_ could… Forgive me?’

He stopped her before she could reply, mouth left hanging open, ‘At Hogwarts, that kiss, I wish I could say I regretted it, but after spending so long just watching your dot pace around, and seeing you then so close but so far, and Merlin the forest- the last thing…’

Most of what he was saying was an incomprehensible ramble to her, but she understood very clearly what he was _trying_ to say.

_He still wanted her._

And damn how stupid and selfish he could be sometimes, that thought managed to simultaneously settle the nerves that had been writhing in her gut ever since Bill and Fleur’s wedding and then replace that feeling with a fluttering that threatened to bubble out of her throat and plaster a smile on her face.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, connecting them now with more than words. He stopped in the middle of his sentence, head turning to stare at where her hand lay, like he didn’t believe it was there until he saw it with his own eyes.

She moved her hand to cup his face in her palm and he leaned into the touch, eyes closing and lips forming a thin line, like he was in pain. She also suspected there were tiny pools of liquid forming at the corners of his eyes- but it was hard to see beyond his glasses. He lifted his hand to grip her wrist, as if holding on for dear life.

They were both still breathing hard, the anger dissipating and swirling around them.

‘Harry,’ he took a deep breath and, impossibly, his grip on her tightened, ‘Of course I can forgive you. I don’t think there’s any way I could not forgive you. I’m not even sure there is so much to forgive.’

He let out a mix between a laugh and a sob, and opened his eyes to look at her, ‘I, _hurt_ you Gin, please- you, of all people- don’t act as if I haven’t hurt you.’

It was true. Some part of her still wanted to lift her palm from his face, form a fist and then reconnect her hand with his jaw. But what counted, was that he _knew_ he had hurt her. She was not a planet orbiting around him trying to glean some warmth from the sun.

She only realised that tears were running down her face when she tasted a salty tear edging around her lip. She made no effort to hide them, the bare emotion between them made her feel more vulnerable than she had ever felt, but she also never felt safer than when she was next to Harry.

‘I think we’ve both been hurt a lot by the past year,’ she said, the understatement of the year, ‘that doesn’t mean we both have to, _wallow,_ like this,’ she let out a mirthless chuckle between her tears, now wiping them away, ‘especially when we both want-‘ she gestured between them- ‘we both want this.’

She didn’t have time to tiptoe around telling him what she wanted, for one, she was fairly certain that he wanted the same thing, and for another, she honestly would want to hear right now if he was finished with her. That way she could compound her feelings into one miserable ball and have an excuse other than Harry to spend all day in her bedroom.

When she said those words, she saw a spark ignite in his eye, something she had not seen since those long days spent by the lake, wrapped in pure bliss.

He took one step closer to her, brushed a hand against her cheek. She lunged towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pushing her body against his. Her head rested against his chest where she could hear the steady thumping of his heart, possibly the best thing she had ever heard. All around her it was just _Harry_. His arms were wrapped tight around her, head bent, lips brushing over her hair.

They would have time for other things, right now she only wanted this.

It was late enough that the only sign of the town was a few flickering lights in the distance, and everywhere else darkness was starting to take hold. To Ginny, it didn’t feel sinister or even cold, it felt like a secret she was sharing with the night- the two of them, entwined.

Harry, ever the one to shy away from emotional ordeals, broke their silence with a mutter, ‘Still think we’re a pair of sad sods though.’

She let out a wet laugh, her nose was still running, and her eyes felt sticky. A mischievous thought entered her mind and she smiled to herself, angling her face farther into Harry’s chest.

It took him a while to realise she was all but blowing her nose on him.

‘Merlin Ginny! Look at this!’ he said in disgust as he lifted his shirt for her to study her handiwork.

She only laughed, then shouted at him as she started back down the dirt track they had come from, ‘Mum and dad will be going barmy wondering where we are Harry!’

He didn’t seem to care very much for that however, as he chased her down and caught her around the waist. She let out an indignant shriek as he lifted her. But, growing up with five brothers, no matter how cliché it sounds, really does teach one how to squirm out of strongholds and turn any brawl in their favour. Soon Ginny was out of his grip and trying, though unsuccessfully, to push him over, rugby tackle style.

He stood against her, putting on a show of appearing unbothered, stifling a yawn as she struggled against him. He _was_ bigger than her. Still, she had managed to push him to the edge of the track and they stood there, tall grass swaying behind them. Ginny remembered what she had wanted to do when they first ran past the field, then bathed in golden sunlight and now capturing the last few minutes of daylight.

So, straightening up, she stepped close to Harry, tilted her head up and lingered for a second in front of him. He had just started to reach for her with his hands when she stepped further into him, placed her palms over his chest and sent him backwards into the wall of grass. He disappeared with a surprised yelp, but as he fell, he managed to catch a hold of her wrist and she tumbled after him with a squeal. _Damn those reflexes._

And then they rolled and brawled in the grass, stuck inside their own little universe. Laughter mixed with the occasional curse, turned into whispers and then silence, breaths grew steady and skin touched skin. Between those swaying blades they left behind what they both knew they had to face but also knew could very well wait.

* * *

‘What’s that Arthur?’

‘Hm? Oh, that’s Harry’s patronus I think.’

‘Oh Godric, Arthur, no I can’t take- ‘

‘ _Hi Mr and Mrs Weasley, we’re sorry if you have been worrying, but Ginny and I got a bit lost on our run this afternoon, we’ll be home as soon as possible.’_

 _‘_ A run? Where do you think they are? Let’s go find them, send him a patronus back Arthur, it’s late! And Ginny too- but… Why don’t they just apparate back? Harry is a smart boy, tell him that he can apparate, I swear- ‘

Arthur dropped his book to look at his wife, knitting abandoned and sitting on the edge of her seat. He stood up, took her hands in his and drew her to him. They started to sway gently to the music playing on the wireless.

‘I wouldn’t worry, they’re both very capable,’ he gazed out the window into the night, ‘besides, I think they’d much rather stay lost for now.’


End file.
